


The Nonlinear Property of Time

by unfolded73



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Babies, F/M, Hook Kink, Kid Fic, Miscarriage, Multi, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Pregnant Sex, Smut, Spitroasting, Threesome - F/M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-19 05:51:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12404343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfolded73/pseuds/unfolded73
Summary: A Season 7 AU story with time travel.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cereal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cereal/gifts).



> 1\. I came up with this fic before 7x02 aired based on a lot of the speculation going on in fandom, and even after it was no longer consistent with canon, I couldn’t resist writing it. It just became more involved to fully describe the time travel scenario. Anyway, the point is Wish Hook isn’t in this. But that does not mean I’m anti-Wish Hook – surprisingly, I’m pretty psyched for that story now. So please don’t compliment this fic by slamming that character and his storyline, because I don’t really want to see that.
> 
> 2\. This story has a present-Killian/future-Killian/Emma threeway. If that’s not your thing, this fic might not be for you, and that’s okay!
> 
> 3\. This whole scenario turned out to be way more angsty than I anticipated going in. (No wonder the Doctor is such a big mope.) Which I love but also it makes me glad this isn’t what happened canon.

_Hyperion Heights, Present Day_

The curse broke with a kiss, as these things so often do.

Killian blinked away the prismatic flash and gasped as centuries of memories crashed into his mind in a millisecond. Henry ( _gods, his stepson_ ) and Jacinda’s lips parted, and he could tell that it was hitting them too, the fact that they’d fallen in love years ago in another realm, the fact that Lucy really was Henry’s daughter after all, just as she’d been telling them all along. Killian sat down heavily on the chair behind him and put his head in his hands while everyone else enjoyed a happy reunion.

He struggled to put the pieces of his life together in his mind, but he had lived so many years, it was like a 5000 piece puzzle had just been dumped out on a table in front of him. Fragments of memories flashed before his eyes: Smee clapping him on the shoulder, Liam issuing a command from the helm of the _Jewel_ , his father hitting him hard enough to knock him to the floor, Milah laughing over a dice game, crossing dulled practice swords with a younger Henry, waking up in bed with his wife. _Emma._ He gasped as his worst fear struck him. Emma was back in Storybrooke, and he wasn’t with her.

“Grandma!” he heard Lucy say, and he looked up to see her run into Regina’s arms. The touching sight brought to mind more recent years in the realm where Henry and Cinderella’s story had begun, years when he had longed for Emma and yet somehow had not been worried that she was alone. Shaking his head in confusion, he struggled to remember when he’d left Storybrooke, and why.

Then it hit him, and if he hadn’t already been sitting he probably would have collapsed. The other him. He could remember coming to Henry’s rescue and being confronted with another version of himself.

“Do you remember?”

Killian looked up to see Henry had come over to check on him.

“It’s… I fear my memories are playing tricks on me, lad.” His voice was hoarse.

“Yeah, you told us that you would have trouble piecing it together, right before it was time for you to go back to Storybrooke.” He smirked. “Rude of your future self not to mention that we were all going to get cursed, though.”

“That… that was real? I met myself… from the future?”

Henry nodded, his eyes full of compassion, and sat down next to him. “It was real. A decade ago, you and my moms came through a portal because I needed help, and…” He paused, his eyes closing briefly as something like guilt washed over his face. “And then not long after, future you showed up and told all of us that he would have to return to Storybrooke with Emma, while present you would have to stay here.”

“Why? I haven’t seen my wife in ten years just because of some…”

“Time travel paradox? I know.” Henry’s hand settled on Killian’s back in a comforting gesture. “But if you hadn’t been with us… Remember when Lucy was born? It took everything you and Regina had to keep us safe. I’ll… I’ll never be able to repay you for everything you sacrificed for us.” Killian’s eyes followed Henry’s gaze over to Jacinda and Lucy.

“Repayment doesn’t enter into it when it’s family.” He could remember a little more now — could remember the certainty that he would willingly sacrifice anything for Henry’s safety, even his happy ending with Emma — but much of it was still fuzzy.

“So how do you get back to Mom?” Henry asked.

Killian clenched his jaw, still feeling anxious even though he remembered now that if things went according to plan, Emma wouldn’t have to be without him the way he’d been without her. “I haven’t the foggiest.”

“Well, we should probably talk to Grandpa, then.”

“I assume you mean Rumpelstiltskin and not Charming,” Killian said, even as he was internally reeling once again. All of that time he’d spent with Weaver, not knowing what he really was. What their history really was. It was enough to drive a person completely mad.

“Yeah.” Henry looked over at his family again, his expression full of longing. It was obvious that he was torn between his desire to reconnect with his wife and child and an obligation to help his stepfather reunite with his own family.

“Go be with them,” Killian said. “I’ll find the Crocodile.”

“Wow, I haven’t heard you call him that in a while.” Henry’s face once more swam with guilt. “I can come with you; it’s the least I can do.”

Killian shook his head firmly. “You need to be with your wife and daughter right now.” He clapped his stepson on the back. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Okay, just… don’t do any time traveling without saying goodbye, all right?”

“I won’t, my boy.”

“I haven’t heard you call me that in a while either,” Henry said with a smile. “I missed it.”

~*~

“I wondered when you’d turn up,” Rumple said, sitting at the bar and swirling dark liquor in a glass. A half-full bottle of whiskey sat at his side.

Killian walked forward. “Why am I not surprised you broke into Roni’s when it was closed?”

“I don’t think Regina will mind.” He tipped the remaining contents of his glass into his mouth. “Join me for a drink?”

“I’ll pass, thanks all the same.”

Rumple spun around on his barstool and regarded him impassively. “Ah yes, I suppose you’ve got no time to waste, eh? You’ve got a time loop to close.”

“I was hoping you would know something about that, Dark One. How do I do it? How do I get back in time to meet Emma when we came through the portal to help Henry all those years ago?”

Rumple’s eyes widened, and then he threw back his head and laughed.

Killian felt a sharp pain in his jaw as he clenched it. “What’s so bloody funny?”

Just as quickly as he had laughed, Rumple’s face dropped back into a sneer. “What’s funny is that you somehow stumbled into a way to not be separated from your wife _and_ to help your stepson simultaneously, and you don’t even know how you did it. If that’s not textbook Captain Hook, then I don’t know what is.”

“Are you implying that my life has been easy?” Killian said, narrowing his eyes and clenching his fist.

“I’m implying that you’re far too stupid to have lived as long as you have.” He turned back to the bar and refilled his glass. “In any case, I haven’t the slightest idea how you traveled in time in the first place, only that you did. I locked off Storybrooke, and lo and behold there was one Captain Hook there, and one in the realm where Henry met his bride. As if one of you weren’t more than enough.”

“What do you mean, you locked off Storybrooke?” Killian said, stepping up to the bar next to his old enemy.

Rumple raised an eyebrow at him. “This curse really scrambled your brain, didn’t it, old man? Or was it existing in two places in this realm at once that did it? In any case, yes, when I realized the dark power that was rising, thanks mostly to my grandson’s taste in women, I locked Storybrooke off. No portal passage, no mirror messages, no magical sea shell telephone calls, nothing. Not until that dark power was defeated.”

Killian slammed his fist down on the bar. “So the reason I’ve had no contact with my wife in a decade is because of _you_?”

“I’m fairly certain _you_ are the architect of your separation from your wife. And if I hadn’t protected Storybrooke, then everyone you know and love there would have been destroyed. So _you’re welcome_. Not to mention, every moment you and your future self exist in the same realm destabilizes the universe. It’s a miracle you didn’t cause a paradox that resulted in everything just winking out of existence. But yes, by all means, blame _me_.”

“I apologize,” Killian forced himself to say, his throat constricting as if to keep the words in.

“You aren’t the only one with a family in Storybrooke. And unlike you, I don’t get to travel back in time and experience all the things with my son that I missed.” Rumple blinked balefully at him.

Killian felt sudden sympathy for the Crocodile, which was a foreign emotion when it came to this man. “You could come with me.”

His glass slamming on the table, Rumple stood up. “No, I can’t. I can’t, because I didn’t. Don’t you get it? You being in Storybrooke for the last few years may be in your future, but it’s in my past. I can’t be there because I wasn’t there.”

Running his hand over his face in frustration, Killian exhaled sharply. “Well, I can’t be there either if I don’t figure out how it works.”

“And that will create a paradox that will tear apart the realm. You must have left yourself a message. Instructions. A magical object. Think. Is there something in your apartment here in Seattle? Something you couldn’t identify while you were cursed?”

He thought about the sad little place that Detective Rogers had called his home. “No, nothing.”

“Here you are, finally,” Zelena proclaimed as she marched through the door. “I’ve been looking all over for this place.” Regina was following close behind her. “Imagine my surprise, running into my sister on the street and finding out she owns a bar!”

“I was cursed,” Regina muttered, glaring at the two men. “You’re gonna pay for what you drank.”

“Since when does the Evil Queen care about a little bit of cheap booze?” Rumple said.

“Can we focus, please?” Zelena interrupted. “Hook, I have something for you.” She held out a wooden box that sparked a memory of the _Jolly Roger_. He could almost smell the salt air, looking at that box.

“Where did you get that?”

“You gave it to me in Storybrooke. Along with a date and a location: Roni’s bar, in a little neighborhood called Hyperion Heights in Seattle, Washington. Robyn and I decided to make a cross-country road trip out of it. I have to say, Mount Rushmore was a bit of a let-down. Too many dicks on the dance floor.”

“Zelena, can you please get on with explaining what brought you here?” Regina said.

“There’s not much else to tell.” She took a deep breath. “Hook came to me several weeks ago in Storybrooke. He had this box, which was locked, and asked me to bring it 3000 miles and deliver it right here, right now. Said that the fate of his family and possibly the entire realm depended on me doing this.” She squinted at Killian. “So are you a clone? An alternate universe version of yourself? Or did you take an airplane here just to fuck with me?”

“He’s the same person, just earlier in his timeline than the one who gave you that box in Storybrooke,” Rumple supplied.

“Ah, that explains the other thing you told me, which was that when I got to Seattle, I was not reveal anything about Emma or… anyone else in town. I suppose you were afraid it would muck up the timeline if you knew too much.”

“Can you unlock the box?” Regina asked him.

“It's keyed to my hook, which I don't have,” he said, looking down at the functional prosthetic hand he'd worn when he thought his name was Rogers. 

“Oh, right, I have that too,” Zelena said, snapping her fingers and reaching into her handbag. She rooted around for a minute before finally producing the shiny metal appendage. 

Taking the hook from Zelena, Killian turned it around and slid the key in the base of it into the keyhole on the chest. Giving it a ninety-degree turn, the lock clicked open.

“That’s a handy trick,” Zelena commented as he opened the lid.

Everyone peered inside.

“Is that the Black Fairy’s wand?” Regina reached in and took it out.

“That it is,” Rumple said darkly, staring at it. “Taken out of my shop, I’d wager.”

Killian was already reading the instructions that were also in the box, written out in his own careful handwriting. “You’re welcome to keep it, once it gets me where I need to go,” he said, his eyes on the page. Once he’d digested the directions, he passed them over to Regina to read. “Think you can handle it?” he asked her once she’d also read them.

“Shouldn’t be a problem.” She eyed him. “How much do you remember about that day you’re returning to?”

“Almost nothing. It’s like…” He tried to remember it again, tried to force his mind to go back and imagine it, facing another copy of himself, and he squeezed his eyes shut at a sharp pain in his forehead. “It’s like every time I try to think about it, my mind slides away. Trying to force myself to remember makes my head hurt.”

“Probably a side effect of time travel. Or of meeting yourself. It’ll be interesting to see how your mind processes it once you’ve experienced it from the other side,” Regina said, her curiosity clearly piqued.

“Well, I suppose you can ask me yourself, if you’re going back to Storybrooke,” he said to her.

She didn’t respond to that, consulting the spell instructions again. “Are you ready to do this?”

“I need to see Henry again first,” he said, his heart pounding in his chest. “I won’t be able to see any of you for a long, long time, and…” He could hardly process what he was feeling, impatience about finally being with his wife again but a deep sadness that he’d be saying goodbye to his stepson.

“Call him,” Regina said, her eyes full of sympathy. “We can wait.”

Henry came barreling through the door of the bar only a few minutes later with Lucy on his heels.

“It’s time?” he asked Killian.

“Yeah.” Killian pulled Henry into a hug, squeezing as hard as he could. “I’m going to miss you, son.”

“You’ll see me in the past, before you return to Storybrooke with Emma. As I recall, it takes a day or so for the portal to Storybrooke to reopen.”

Killian digested that information. He honestly couldn’t recall what had occurred on that day. “I’ll need to keep my distance, though, lest I reveal anything about your future,” he said, tilting his head down toward Lucy.

“Good point,” Henry conceded.

“Will you bring the family to Storybrooke soon? Your mother will have been missing you terribly. And she’ll want to meet your family.”

“I promise, I’ll see you soon,” Henry said, his voice raspy from barely restrained tears.

“Bye, Grandpa,” Lucy said, and Killian bent down to hug her.

“Bye, Petal,” he said, the nickname he had for her prior to the curse coming easily to his tongue. “From your perspective, you’ll see me again in no time.”

“Finally I’ll get to visit Storybrooke!” she said excitedly, looking up at her dad. “And I’ll get to meet my aunt or uncle, right?” she said.

At the mention of his own child, Killian turned to look at Zelena, but she turned purposefully away. He wasn’t going to get even a hint about his future out of her, it seemed. “After I’ve gone, Zelena can tell you if it’s an aunt or an uncle,” he said cheerfully to Lucy, ignoring the nagging voice in the back of his mind telling him that it might be neither. Emma had only been a few weeks pregnant, and any number of tragedies might have befallen his family. There might not be a child at all. He wanted to grab hold of Zelena and shake her until she at least told him if his baby had been born. Instead, he gave his granddaughter a kiss on the cheek and stood up.

“I’m ready, Regina.”

~*~

_Storybrooke, Years Ago_

“I’m afraid to tell people,” Emma whispered, her chilled hand resting against the open V of his shirt. She kept her eyes trained on the flames dancing in the fireplace.

Killian reached down and adjusted the afghan over their legs with his hook while he pulled Emma closer with the arm wrapped around her. He returned his hand to stroking her hair. “We don't have to tell anyone until you’re ready, my love.”

“I have a feeling it’ll be obvious way before I’m ready.”

To him, it was obvious already. He’d seen the small swell of her belly that morning as she stood before the closet in her underwear, and the sight had been so arresting, it had made him stumble over his own feet. 

“I just know the minute I tell people, something will go wrong,” Emma sighed. 

“Nothing will go wrong. The doctor said everything is fine.”

“She said that last time too. A few weeks later…” Emma didn’t have to remind him what had happened a few weeks later. The way she’d started to bleed, and how by the time he’d gotten her to the hospital, there was so much blood that Killian had been terrified he’d lose them both. But Emma hadn’t been in any danger, the doctor had told them, even as she had broken the terrible news that the pregnancy was over. _These sorts of miscarriages likely indicate that something was wrong with the fetus,_ she’d said. _This is a common occurrence, and it doesn’t mean you won’t get pregnant again and have a healthy baby._

But it had taken them so long to conceive in the first place, and as Emma had sobbed into his chest that night, she’d expressed the fear that was in his own heart: that they weren’t meant to have a child of their own. 

Seven months later there was another positive pregnancy test, and a tentative, terrified hopefulness bloomed between them as they contemplated the future. 

“Everything's going to be fine, love.” He ran the flat of his hook over her abdomen. “We're going to have a baby.”

“Yeah.” Emma sighed heavily. “I just—”

There was a knock on the door.

Killian looked over his shoulder and glared at the painted wood, wondering who was disturbing their peaceful evening, while his wife untangled herself from him to go and open the door.

“Henry needs us,” Regina said without preamble, marching into the room with little concern for niceties. 

“What do you mean?” Emma asked. 

“He sent one of your bottle messages.” She pulled the clear, glass bottle out of her purse and uncapped it.

 _“Help, I’ve been captured by Lady Tremaine,”_ Henry’s voice projected from the bottle clearly. _“Send Emma, Regina, and Captain Hook!”_

Emma was already reaching for her jacket.

“You stay, love. Regina and I can go.” He opened an end table drawer and pulled out two iridescent beans, tucking one in his pocket for later. At least eight others were nestled in the drawer. Once nearly impossible to come by, the restored crop of magic beans was finally flourishing, and he had collected a nice cache of the tiny passports that allowed them to cross realms.

“Why wouldn’t Emma go?” Regina said indignantly. 

Killian met his wife’s eyes, trying to think of an excuse, but Emma just rolled her eyes.

“I’m pregnant, and Killian’s being overprotective,” she explained. “Because of the miscarriage.”

Regina’s eyes softened; she’d been a surprising source of comfort (albeit her own brand of pragmatic, analytical comfort) when they’d lost the baby. “That’s wonderful, Emma.”

“We don’t know what we’re getting ourselves into in Henry’s realm,” Killian said.

“All the more reason to go in with as much firepower as we can,” Emma replied.

“Regina and I can handle it.” The thought of his wife rushing into danger right now made him sick to his stomach. “If I don’t have to worry about you, then I can focus on Henry. Please, love.”

Emma groaned. “Way to guilt trip me. Okay, fine. But hurry, please?”

He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “I’m sure we’ll make all haste, darling.”

“Just don’t tell Henry yet, okay? Especially about… you know. What we’ve gone through. I don’t want him worrying and rushing back here just for me.”

“He’ll want to know he’s going to have a sibling, Emma,” Regina pointed out.

“I know, but I’m not ready to tell him yet.”

“I promise, not a word to Henry,” Killian said, cutting off any further protestation from Regina as he went to stand beside her, hastily buckling on his sword belt. “Are you ready?”

“Don’t open a portal in here,” Emma said, collapsing on the sofa and covering herself up with the afghan again. “It’ll blow everything around and make a mess. “Go out in the yard. And be careful! And tell Henry I love him!”

~*~

_A Fairy Tale Realm, Years Ago_

“I still think it’s a mistake, not telling him the truth about why Emma didn’t come with us,” Regina murmured to him as they followed Henry through the forest to his cottage.

“She’s feeling superstitious about it. As you recall, it wasn’t long after we’d announced the pregnancy to everyone that she lost the baby. She just hated…” He scraped his hook against a tree trunk. He wasn’t sure if he’d need to find his way back to the location where their portal had opened up, but he wasn’t taking any chances. “She hated people looking at her with pity. That’s why she valued your friendship during that time so much. You didn’t look at her that way.”

“That’s just my cold, standoffish nature,” Regina said with a sardonic smirk.

Killian chuckled. “Whatever the reason, she found it helpful.”

They moved in silence for a while. “So…” Regina drawled. “Henry’s fallen in love with another version of Cinderella?”

“Looks that way.” He scraped a mark in another tree trunk.

“I’m not sure I approve.”

“I’m not sure your approval matters, love. He’s a man grown, leading his own life.”

“I don’t approve of that either,” she said with another smirk, “especially in a realm without modern contraceptives.”

“Do I need to have a man-to-man talk with him about potions now? And here I thought I’d finished with all of that.”

Regina laughed, causing Henry to turn around and glance at them. She lowered her voice again and whispered. “You’re having a baby, remember? You’re starting it all over again. Perhaps with a daughter this time.”

Killian groaned. 

“Here it is,” Henry called as he broke through into a clearing up ahead. “Home, sweet home.”

Regina and Killian emerged to see a small, rather run-down hovel. ‘Modest’ was probably the most charitable way it could be described.

“It’s… nice,” Regina said, visibly trying not to recoil.

“Come on in, I’ll get you something to drink and we can talk about what to do next.”

Before they could act on his invitation, a spinning golden portal opened up in the clearing, and Emma Swan rushed through it, her hair in disarray and her red jacket askew on her shoulders.

“Sorry, I couldn’t wait,” she said as the portal closed, and looked at Henry. “Oh my God, you’re so tall!” She ran into his arms.

“Mom!” Henry said, grinning widely and hugging her back. “I thought you were fighting a swarm of tiny dragons.”

Emma pulled away and eyed Killian. “Is that what you came up with? No, Killian wanted me to rest and I thought I could, but I had to see you.”

“Why did you need to rest, are you okay?” Henry asked.

“Yeah, I’m great.” She glanced at Killian and Regina, then back at her son. “I’m pregnant.”

“Oh, Mom, that’s fantastic news!” He hugged her again and then glared at Killian. “You weren’t going to tell me this?”

“Emma asked me not to!” he protested.

“Sorry, sorry, I did,” Emma admitted. “We’re not telling people yet, but…” she paused, giving her son a grinning shrug. “I missed you, kid.”

“I missed you, too.”

Before they could hug each other again, or go inside Henry’s hovel for a drink, or strategize about how to handle Lady Tremaine, another portal opened.

And another Hook stepped out of it.


	2. Chapter 2

The moment he saw Emma, everything froze.

As the portal opened from the end of the Black Fairy’s wand, he saw her, windblown blonde hair and red jacket, looking exactly the way she’d looked the last time he saw her. Which, he supposed, made sense: on the other side of that portal _was_ the last time he saw her.

His heart pounding a quick staccato in his chest, Killian stepped through.

Everyone in the forest clearing stared at him, dumbstruck. 

“What the hell?” said Emma.

Immediately, his younger self approached, putting himself bodily between him and Emma. “What kind of witchcraft is this?”

“Uh, why are there two of you?” Henry asked.

“This is some kind of imposter,” the younger Killian said, pulling his sword and holding it out with his arm outstretched. “It’s a trick. Show your true face!”

The older Killian held his hands up in surrender, realizing that he still wore the prosthetic hand and was holding the hook Zelena had given him in the other. “I’m not an imposter. I’m you from the future.”

Regina approached, and before he could react, she waved her hand in his direction and a puff of purple smoke briefly enveloped him before harmlessly dissipating. She shrugged at Emma and the younger Killian.

“If he’s an imposter, it’s not because of a glamour. It could be something more permanent. Some kind of blood magic.” 

Killian growled in frustration, clenching his fists. “It’s not magic, other than the portal that got me here. I swear it, I’ve traveled from the future. You’ve traveled in time; you know it’s possible.”

Emma tucked her arm under her husband’s, all the while she kept her eyes locked on his. “He’s telling the truth. Or thinks he is,” she said to the man beside her, before aiming her next words at him. “Why have you come back in time? What’s happened?”

“He could be tricking your superpower, love,” the younger Killian protested, his arm going protectively around his wife. It made him feel a strange flash of jealousy to see it.

“Okay,” Emma conceded. “So tell me something I’ve only ever told Killian.” She glanced around at Henry and Regina. “Nothing inappropriate, though.”

“Mom.” Henry made a disgusted face.

Killian thought for a few seconds, looping his hook through a belt loop on his jeans while he pondered that riddle. “When you had sex for the first time, you accidentally left your underwear in your boyfriend’s car,” he finally blurted.

“ _Mom._ ” 

“I said ‘nothing inappropriate’,” Emma said with an eye roll.

“Well, it is true,” younger Killian said, looking at his older counterpart with a little less venom.

Emma sighed. “And I never told that story to anyone else, so I think we can trust that this is really you, unless that guy from Stevenson High School was actually a wizard who figured out time travel and blood magic. Which seems unlikely.”

The younger Killian raised an eyebrow. “Says the person who unwittingly conceived a child with Rumpelstiltskin’s son.” Emma punched him in the arm. “All right, all right. I trust your instincts, darling.” He sheathed his sword.

“Why are you here?” Regina asked. “You must know how dangerous this is, crossing your own timeline like this.”

Killian scratched behind his ear; this was going to be the trickiest part, and it was hard to think when all he wanted to do was take his wife in his arms after so many years without her. “There is a great danger ahead for this realm, and Henry is going to need our help. And for reasons I can’t explain, Storybrooke is going to be closed off for some time.”

“What do you mean, closed off?” Regina demanded.

“For how long?” Emma asked.

He exhaled. “I can’t tell you that. I can’t tell you anything that happens. I only can tell you this.” He pointed to his younger self. “You and Regina must stay here to be at Henry’s side. I will return to Storybrooke with Emma.”

“Bollocks,” his younger self said.

“If this realm is so dangerous, then we should all go back to Storybrooke together, and you should return to the future,” Emma said.

The older Killian turned to Henry. “I think you know why that can’t happen, don’t you, lad?”

Henry looked apologetically at his mothers. “Cinderella. I have to find her.”

“So we all stay here,” Emma said. “If there’s danger, I’m not going to just go home and wait for it to be over. Not where my son’s involved.”

Killian looked apologetically at her. He knew it wasn’t enough to say she couldn’t do that simply because it isn’t what happened on his timeline; she had to make the decision for herself. He had a sudden sharp fear that he was going to muck this up, and Emma would refuse to go. What would happen to him then? 

He thought about Lucy, and how much more dangerous her existence had made things for all of them. “You’re carrying a child; the product of true love. It’s too dangerous to have that child here; not with what’s coming.”

His counterpart approached, standing toe to toe with him. “You seriously expect me to believe that I’m just going to let my pregnant wife go back to Storybrooke without me?”

Killian looked around and took in the expectant faces of Emma, Henry, and Regina. Gently taking his younger self by the elbow, he led him far enough away that they wouldn’t be overheard. “Aye, because that’s exactly what I did. And she won’t be without you. You’ll just have to be without her for a time.”

“I need more proof. One anecdote about Emma may be enough for her, but it isn’t enough for me.” He put his hand on his sword, his intent clear.

Killian raised an eyebrow at himself. “I don’t want to think about what it will do to the timeline if you kill me.” He sighed heavily. “How about this? You used to imagine that a witch had stolen your father away rather than admit to yourself that he abandoned you. After Milah died, you thought for a long time that you could still hear her speaking to you. The first time you made love to Emma, you shed a few tears, and you were terribly relieved when she didn’t notice—”

“Okay, enough,” his younger counterpart said, blushing to the tips of his ears. “I believe you.”

“I know this is hard. I _do_. I’ve lived without her for… I’ve lived what you’re about to live.”

Watching his own eyes well up with unshed tears was an odd experience. “How can I…? We fought so hard, overcame so much to be together, we’re about to have a child, and now I have to…”

“You’ll be with Henry, and I can’t overstate how critical it is that you are here to see him through what’s coming. And I promise there will still be people in your life who care about you. It’s not all loneliness.”

“Tell me how long I have to wait. Please.”

“I can’t. You know I can’t.” He put a hand on his younger self’s shoulder, another odd experience. “Everything I’ve said risks your future as it is.”

He saw resignation on his own face, and he breathed a sigh of relief. 

The other man looked back at Emma. “Do you have to go right now?”

He remembered what Henry had said in Hyperion Heights. “I’ve been told that we go back tomorrow. You have some time to say goodbye.”

At that, the younger Killian’s shoulders dropped in defeat. “Every instinct I have is telling me not to let this happen.”

“I know.”

He watched as the other man’s eyes settled on his prosthetic hand. “I no longer wear the hook?” he asked, the change in pronoun seeming to indicate a growing acceptance that they were truly the same person.

He opened his mouth, trying to figure out what to say that wouldn’t reveal the curse he’d been under. “I haven’t for a time, but I will again.” His breath hitched. “Can I…?” He gestured over to Emma. 

The younger Killian didn’t say anything, just stepped aside, gesturing for him to finally go greet his wife.

~*~

“Are you okay?” Regina asked her as Henry excused himself into the cottage to get everyone a drink, saying they probably needed it.

Emma had been watching the two versions of her husband talking in urgent, hushed tones, and dragged her gaze over to her friend. “I don’t love the implication that because I’m pregnant, I need to be sidelined.”

Regina conceded the point with a tilt of her head. “I understand why you feel that way, but I don’t think that’s what this is. Hook from the future has information we don’t have, and if he says a child of true love will be in danger here, then much as I hate to admit it, I believe him.”

“And it’s definitely him? He’s not just some kind of… I don’t know, mind reader or something?”

Regina nodded. “If my magic is to be trusted, then that’s really him.” She watched the two men talk for a few seconds. “He doesn’t look too much older. At least you’re not trading in your hot, young-looking husband for an elderly version.”

“I don’t care about that,” Emma said, although she had to admit to herself that maybe she cared a little bit. “What about you, are _you_ okay? Apparently, you have to stay here too, which is not exactly what you were bargaining for when you left.”

Regina smiled a tight smile. “If Henry needs help, then it’s not even a question. I’ll gladly stay.” Her eyes suddenly turned sad. “But when you see Zelena and Robyn, can you tell them… I don’t know, tell them what happened? And that I’m sorry I couldn’t say goodbye?”

“Of course. Of course, I will. God, this is so fucked up.”

“To say the least.” Regina laughed suddenly. “Do you know what you should do?”

“What?”

“Take both of them to bed together.”

“Oh my God, Regina.”

“Oh come on, you weren’t thinking it?”

Emma looked over at the Killians again. “Well, I’m thinking it _now_.” She shook her head quickly to dispel the pornographic images that Regina’s comment had summoned. “No, no. This isn’t fun sexy time. I’ve got to say goodbye to one of them.”

“All the more reason to make a memory you won’t soon forget,” Regina said.

“Stop it,” Emma murmured as the version of her husband that had come through the time portal approached. While he wore similar black jeans to what she was used to, his jacket was cloth instead of leather, and he seemed to wear only a t-shirt under it. Most noticeably, he had a prosthetic hand on the end of his left arm. 

Seeing the longing in his eyes, Emma met him and was pulled into a crushing hug. She clung to his back, feeling the way he trembled to hold her. “Gods, I’ve missed you, Swan.”

She didn’t know how to respond; saying she’d missed him too didn’t make any sense, when she’d been with him all along. “I’m sorry,” Emma responded instead. “I’m sorry you had to be away from me.”

He finally pulled back and put his hand on her abdomen. “The babe is okay?”

“As far as I know, yeah.” She frowned. “So, do you not remember all of this from his perspective?” she said, gesturing toward her husband in leather.

“Almost none of it, no. My memory of it is obscured.”

“Huh. So when do we have to go?” she asked as Henry emerged from his door with a bottle and a stack of clay cups. 

“Not right away.” His eyes flitted to his younger self. “I won’t whisk you away from the other me so quickly. Take some time.”

“I don’t really have extra space for anyone to bunk with me, but you could build a fire and set up some bedrolls, maybe?” Henry said, looking apologetic.

Emma put her hand on her back, thinking of the pain a night on the hard ground would cause her. “Or maybe we could find an inn?”

~*~

“So I leave with him in the morning?” Emma asked as she sat down gingerly on the bed.

Killian shot her a frown from his position by the window. “That’s what the Henry of the future told him occurred.” The inn they were staying at overlooked the town square, and even at this very late hour, the sound of revelry reached her ears, both from the common room below them and from the street outside. Carriages rattled over the cobblestone streets, horse hooves clattering and setting her teeth on edge. Once she might have been used to so much racket, albeit of a different sort: car horns, mostly. But Emma had lived for years now on a quiet street in bucolic Storybrooke, and she doubted she’d be able to sleep now with all this noise.

She swallowed against a lump in her throat. “How long did he say it would be before you see me again?”

Killian scratched behind his ear. “He wouldn’t tell me.” He continued to stare out of the window. “Long enough for him to miss you terribly.”

Emma stood back up and approached him. “This isn’t goodbye. He’s you, and you’re him, and that means you _will_ see me again.” 

“Then why does it feel like I’m sending you off to have our happily ever after with another man?” Emma could see his jaw twitching as he clenched his teeth.

She shrugged. “Because this is a stupid, fucked-up, sci-fi situation.” She reached out and tentatively stroked his arm. “I get it; if I was in your shoes, I’d be furious. And jealous of myself, which is completely bonkers, but there it is.”

He turned from the window finally, and there was a sheen of tears in his eyes. “You’re pregnant, Emma, and I won’t… I know that because he’ll be with you, that means that I will. Intellectually, I know that. But I can’t stop the feeling that I’m abandoning you and our unborn child.”

She took his face in her hands. “You aren’t. You did the opposite of that, you bent _time itself_ to ensure that you’d be with me and with Henry every step of the way, and fuck, of course you did, because that’s how much you love us. You aren’t abandoning me. He isn’t another man. He’s you.” She pressed their foreheads together. “He’s _you_.”

They stood silently that way for a long time. “Aye.” 

Emma pulled away slightly and smiled, trying to put on a brave face. “And he can’t have been separated from me for that long; he doesn’t look much older than you do.”

Killian raised an eyebrow. “I know better than anyone that there are scores of magical reasons that aging can be arrested. For all I know, he could have lived another century.” He shook his head in frustration. “I may have to live another century before I see you again.”

Pulling him into a hug, Emma squeezed her eyes shut. What could she say? She didn’t have to be separated from him, but he had to be separated from her. It was a cruel sort of gift. 

Killian exhaled into her hair. “Where’d he… _I_ … run off to anyway?”

She shrugged. “You seemed to want to give us some space to… you know. Say goodbye.” Emma blushed, which was stupid, she thought. She’d had sex with her husband hundreds of times — it shouldn’t be making her blush to refer to it.

He caressed her arm. “You don’t need to feel obligated to…”

“Give you one last fuck for the road?”

That finally brought out a whisper of a smile on his face. “Aye. I have many pleasant memories of nights with you to sustain me for however long it takes.”

Emma raised a shoulder in a half-shrug. “Yeah, but what else are we going to do? We could either lie here feeling sad and counting your remaining minutes with me, or we could make one more memory to help, like you said, sustain you.”

Killian leaned forward and kissed her softly, just a gentle brush of his lips against hers. “Only if it’s what you want, love.”

Shrugging her jacket off, Emma let it drop to the floor before draping her arms over Killian’s shoulders. “What I want is for you not to suffer through this separation and who knows what else when you’ve had to endure so much grief in your life already. What I want is for this time loop crap to take a long walk off a short pier. But since I can’t have those things, I’ll take a few minutes where all I have to think about is how amazing you make me feel. And I’ll take seeing that look you get on your face right before you come. Okay?”

He swept in quickly, gathering her up and slanting his mouth over hers. Their tongues met, familiar and comforting at the same time that it made her stomach swoop. Killian was suddenly all barely-restrained passion, his hook pressed tight against the curve of her ass as he plundered her mouth.

They undressed each other gradually, something they hadn’t done in a long time. Killian pulled her t-shirt over her head and let it fall to the floor as he pushed her bra strap off her shoulder and sealed his mouth over her collarbone, a sharp suck making Emma’s hips jerk in reaction. Once she could regain enough presence of mind, she reached for his belt, pulling it open and moving on to the button and zipper of his jeans. His hand slid behind her back to unclasp her bra. Hers slid his shirt off of his shoulders and unbuckled the straps holding his brace on his arm. Eventually, they settled into bed, the sheets rough against her skin and the mattress uncomfortable compared to their bed at home. Still, she was with her husband, his skin warm and muscles firm against her body, and that was all that really mattered.

Killian was drinking her in with his eyes, his fingertips slowly tracing over her breast. She imagined that he was trying to commit everything to memory, the only thing he would be left with for who knew how long. Quelling her own impatience, Emma settled against the bedding and let him look his fill.

“I swore to you that I would always be by your side,” he murmured, leaning over and pressing a soft kiss against her breastbone. “I guess this was the only way for me to keep that promise.”

Blinking back tears, Emma caressed his face. “No sadness right now, okay?” She forced herself to smile as her hand trailed down his chest to his stomach. “I just want to make you feel good.”

He didn’t answer that other than to lean over and kiss her, pulling her lower lip between his and nipping gently with his teeth. 

“I want to memorize the way you taste,” Killian said, sliding down her body, mouth tracing a pattern across her ribs. 

Emma looked down at the crown of his head, at the little swirl of a cowlick that she found so endearing, and she brought her hand up to trace the soft locks with her fingers. She smiled. "You haven't memorized that by now?"

His answering smile was pressed against the small swell of her belly. "I'll admit I've made a regular study of it. But allow me one more attempt to commit it to memory, love."

Giggling at the ticklish brush of his beard at the crease where her leg met her pelvis, Emma closed her eyes. "If you must," she replied with an exaggerated imperious air. 

He gave her a playful pinch on the bottom in response as he positioned himself between her spread thighs and lowered his mouth to her sex. 

Sometimes when he did this, Emma felt a certain self-imposed pressure to enjoy it sufficiently, to show him how good he was. He was good, always had been, but she’d always felt a tiny nugget of discomfort in being the singular focus of Killian’s attention in bed. It was easier to take control — flip him over and ride him into oblivion, both of them reaching for their climaxes together. Being on the receiving end of Killian’s attentions, spread open and vulnerable like this, taking pleasure and not giving any in return, had taken some getting used to. Emma used to reach desperately for the orgasm she felt like she owed him, so that his efforts would feel worth it. But eventually, he’d noticed, and Killian had patiently explained to her that he enjoyed pleasuring her for the journey, not the destination. Still, old habits died hard, and even now she had to remind herself to relax and enjoy the journey.

Emma floated in a hazy, shallow lake of pleasure, her hips slowly undulating in time with the laps of his tongue and the movement of his fingers. She didn’t have any particular need to rush this. They had all night, and if this was the last time Killian could be with her for a long while, then she would stay awake for him, the exhaustion brought on by her pregnancy be damned.

When she began to feel a little oversensitive, she reached down and stroked his cheek, and he pulled away and kissed the palm of her hand, his fingers continuing a slow thrust in and out of her. 

“What do you need, love?” he asked, his voice soft and raspy.

“Come here,” she said, and he gave one final kiss to the inside of her thigh before crawling up her body. Emma reached for his erection, guiding him to her entrance. He pushed into her cautiously; he was always a little bit cautious with her these days, no matter how many times she assured him that sex wouldn’t hurt her or the baby, and that she enjoyed it as rough as she always had. But the perfect slide of his cock, dragging against her sensitive walls and touching something deep inside, was exactly what she needed. “Yes, right there,” she gasped, gripping his back as she drew her knees up alongside his hips.

Killian maintained a very slow rhythm, and Emma could tell he was trying to make it last as long as possible. His eyes were wide open, staring at her, drinking her in. She craned her neck up and kissed him, his beard still wet from her body, and she savored the way her taste lingered in his mouth.

They moved together, quiet and slow, slick and open, every stroke nudging her another hair’s breadth closer to release. When she finally fell, it was easy, and she forced her eyes to stay open so she could watch him watching her. Killian’s orgasm almost seemed to take him unawares, every muscle tightening, his face contracting as he groaned through clenched teeth.

He held her close for a long time afterward, nuzzling into her hair, the tension in his arms revealing his true feelings now that the sex was over.

“I love you,” Killian murmured into her skin. “I’ll wait a thousand lifetimes to be with you again, I swear it.”

“It won’t be that long, Killian.” She stroked his hair, trying to soothe his fears. “The time will pass in a flash.”

She could tell he was fighting sleep, but he dozed off after only a few minutes, his soft breath puffing out against her neck. Carefully, Emma extracted herself from his embrace. She cleaned herself up as best she could with a cloth, then pulled her clothes back on and crept out of the room.


	3. Chapter 3

She spotted him in the corner of the common room of the inn, a mostly full mug of ale in front of him.

Emma took a moment to study this Killian from the shadow of the doorway. He really didn’t look significantly older; maybe the crow’s feet around his eyes were a little more prominent, but otherwise, he seemed mostly the same. Taking a deep breath, she approached his table. A moment long ago flashed before her eyes — her in an uncomfortable corset and him looking at her like he wanted to positively devour her. 

His emotions had always been so easy to read, and tonight was no different, the way he drank her in with his eyes. He started to stand, but she plunked herself down on the bench across from him before he could do so.

“You should be resting,” he said.

She sniffed at his ale, ignoring his comment. “How weak is this? Can I drink it? Because I drank some water at Henry’s, but here, I don’t know if I trust the water, and I really need something before I get too dehydrated.” Taking a tentative taste, she tried to guess at what the alcohol content might be. She’d just have to limit herself to a few sips, she thought, wondering not for the first time how women managed pregnancy in realms like this. “Also I’m starving. Do they have food here? Like bread, maybe?”

He signaled to the barmaid and ordered her some bread and cheese. 

“Thanks. If I let my stomach get too empty, I get vomity.”

“I remember.” He scratched behind his ear. “Is the other me…”

“Sleeping.”

He frowned. “My last night with you and I’m _sleeping_?”

Emma shrugged. “Come on, Killian, you know how drowsy you get after…” She blushed. “Okay, this is weird, talking about sex with you with a different you.”

He flashed her a quick smile. “Aye.”

She decided to get to what had been bothering her, what was probably keeping her from falling asleep beside her husband. “So Henry’s safe now, where you came from? And happy?”

“He is. Very happy.”

“And everything he has to go through, the darkness you mentioned… it’s worth it?”

“Aye.” He quirked an eyebrow at her. “As I dare say it was for us.”

She heaved a sigh of relief as the waitress set her food down in front of her. Emma tore into the bread, suddenly famished. For a while they sat in silence, Killian watching her eat with a small smile on his lips. “Tell me something about Henry. In the future,” Emma mumbled around a mouthful of cheese.

“I shouldn’t,” he warned. 

“Look, I promise I won’t tell the other you or Regina. But you said we were going to be sealed off in Storybrooke, so what’s the harm in me knowing?”

Killian took a deep breath and let it out. “Well, for one thing, you’re a grandmother.”

Emma boggled at him. “No. I’m what? _No_.”

Her reaction seemed to amuse him. “It’s true, Swan.”

“Henry had a baby?”

“Well, technically his true love had the baby, but yes. Her name is Lucy. She's brilliant.”

She fixed him with a steely gaze. “Tell me how long it’s been.”

He shrugged, deflecting. “Not that long.”

“Killian, _tell me_.”

“Around ten years,” he finally responded, staring down at the table.

Emma sat dumbfounded, the food suddenly tasting like ash in her mouth. _Ten years_. Her husband would have to… _had_ lived without her for _years_. Her stomach sank as she started to process the implications. 

“You… you’re practically a different person now! All those experiences you’ve had that I wasn’t there for, do… do we even know each other any more?” 

He looked stricken. “Of course we do. I’m still your husband, Emma.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“And I'll tell you everything once we’re back home, I promise. It will just take some time.”

She reached over and grabbed his hand. “I'm sorry, it's just a lot to process. I mean, you made this huge sacrifice for our son. I don’t even know how to begin to thank you for that, and instead, all I’m doing is making you feel bad. Oh, God.” Another horrible thought struck her. “I’m not going to see Henry for ten years. My own kid, and I lost so much time with him already—”

“I know, darling, I know.” He squeezed her hand. “But you will see him again, I promise.” Very quickly, he rose out of his seat and came over to her side of the table, sitting beside her. “They were already talking about coming to Storybrooke when I left. As soon as he can, Henry will be with you again. Don’t fret.”

Emma swiped angrily at a tear on her cheek. “I’m not fretting. This just sucks.”

“Aye.”

“It’s just…” She struggled to articulate what she was thinking. “Last week, you brought me a bear claw for breakfast, and I ate it even though it made me sick to my stomach. And then I regretted it and you felt bad. Do you remember that?”

He frowned. “I… yes, I think I recall it.”

“Exactly. It’s a distant memory for you, a random, tiny thing that you barely remember. But it was only a few days ago for me! And there are a million things like that. It’ll be like getting to know you all over again.”

“I’m sorry.” His eyes slipped closed for a moment. “If there were another way—”

“No, it’s not your fault. I’m being an asshole.”

“Swan, you’re not—”

“I am, and you’re being so patient when you must be dying to pick up where we left off.” She grimaced, feeling wrong-footed. “At least, I hope you are.”

Killian put his hand on her cheek. “I have thought about being with you every day… well, every day that my memories were intact,” he added. Before Emma could ask, he cut her off. “It’s a long tale that I’ll tell you later. The point is, I love you more today than I did the day I had to leave you. You’re my true love and my partner and the mother of my child, and I would have waited a thousand lifetimes for you if I’d had to.”

The words were so like those the other Killian had used, and Emma felt another tear track down her cheek. The fact that he might not remember the events of the last few months as clearly as she did, the fact that he had experiences that may have changed him in small ways, none of that seemed important when she looked into his eyes. 

“I love you,” Emma said, her hand coming up to comb through the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I love you, too,” he said, kissing her softly on the lips. He nodded toward the bar. “Let me settle the tab and then I’ll escort you back to your room, okay, love?”

She looked up and down at his modern clothes. “Do you even have currency for this realm?”

He patted his pocket, standing up. “A pirate always has gold on him, no matter the realm, no matter if he doesn’t even remember he’s a pirate.”

Emma shrugged; no doubt she’d get the whole story in time. “Okay.”

He guided her up the stairs with the unfamiliar prosthetic pressed lightly against her back. She was intensely curious about when he’d gotten it, and whether he would continue to wear it. Where had it come from — had he been in this realm, or another like it, with modern technology? Clearly, the hand had some functionality; she’d seen the fingers move. She’d mentioned a few times over the years that he might want to get a prosthetic like this, gently showing him youtube videos so that he could see how they worked, trying not to push him, reassuring him that she was comfortable with the hook and whatever he wanted was fine. And after all that, it had been in her absence that he had changed his prosthetic. It made her strangely jealous — another experience that she hadn’t been a part of. He already had so many decades of life under his belt when they met, and now this. More of him that she couldn’t touch.

They stopped outside her bedroom. Killian reached up and caressed her hair, letting the strands slip between his fingers. “Get some sleep, and I’ll see you in the morning, my love.”

Emma leaned forward, capturing his lips in a kiss. She could hear a choked off groan in his throat as he kissed her back. Emma put her hands on his hips, sensing the way he held himself very still, a study in barely restrained emotion. Even in the midst of all the worry and sadness, it gave her a little charge, feeling the way he was desperately holding his passion in check. She pushed herself up against him, her breasts crushing against his chest, and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Emma,” he moaned. “I can’t—” Her back bumped up against the door as he pressed his hips forward. “I’ve _missed_ you.”

His desperation sent a wave of desire through her; how could she not respond to being so _wanted_ like this? Emma tilted her head and opened her mouth and thrilled at the feel of him, hard through his jeans as he sought friction against her.

When the door opened, Emma stumbled backward, and another pair of strong arms caught her before she fell.

“Oh. Well, this is awkward,” she said, looking back and forth between her two husbands. The Killian behind her was sleep-mussed, hair askew and a crease from the pillowcase on his cheek. He’d pulled on jeans and buckled his brace with the hook back on, but was otherwise unclothed. 

“Something woke me, and I was concerned when you weren’t here,” he said, his brow furrowed.

“I was hungry. And I wanted to ask you—” she said, pointing at the other Killian standing in the doorway “—some questions.”

“Is that what you were doing just now?” her younger husband asked. “Asking questions?”

“Wait, are you jealous of _yourself_?” she asked.

“I’ll just go,” the older Killian said, backing up a step.

“You don’t have to go, you’ve waited—” She barely stopped herself before saying ‘ten years.’ Perhaps Killian had been right in his instinct not to tell her anything.

“I can wait one more day, darling.”

Emma huffed. “Just get in here and close the door before we attract any unwanted attention.”

She saw a spark of longing in his eyes, but he very quickly shut it down. “I have another room rented; don’t worry about me.”

“Oh.” Disappointment and thwarted desire swelled within her.

The younger Killian sat down on the bed, sighing heavily. “You can go with him, Swan.”

Emma’s eyes opened wide in surprise. “What?”

“As you said, he’s been waiting, and being jealous of myself is nonsense. You can go with him if you want. I don’t mind.”

“But… this is our last night together,” she protested.

“So what do you suggest, love?”

She cocked an eyebrow at him, remembering what Regina had said. “Well…”

The younger Killian laughed. “Is this how I find out you have a twin fetish, darling?”

“I don’t have a _twin fetish_ , but… I mean, put yourself in my shoes. Imagine you were with two of me, two copies of your wife, both in love with you, both wanting to be with you. Are you telling me you wouldn’t want to see what that was like?”

The older Killian stepped into the room and closed the door. “I suppose I would, but it’s a little strange, isn’t it?” He indicated his counterpart. “We’re the same person.”

“Exactly,” she said, shocked at herself for making this argument so intently. But now that the idea was in her head, now that she was standing in a room with both of them, she found she really, really wanted to know how it would feel. “You’re the same person. It’s not like you’re actually twins. You’ve had most of the same experiences — all of the same experiences with _me_. There aren’t any secrets here.” Okay, that wasn’t exactly true, but she moved on. “Look, if it’s too weird for you, it’s fine—”

Killian stood up from the bed. “No, I never said it was too weird.” His eyes flicked over to his other self. 

“All I want is to give you everything you desire, darling.” The older one’s lips twitched with a suppressed smile. “Although I am starting to wonder if this is the reason I don’t remember anything that happened tonight.”

His younger self chuckled. “Too traumatic?”

“Aye.”

They both drifted close to her, one on each side, and Emma felt another surge of desire run through her. “Are you sure about this?” she asked, holding her hands up. “Seriously, I don’t want you to do this just for me if you’re gonna be crying in the shower afterward.”

“Doing it for you is rather the point,” the older Killian murmured against the shell of her ear.

“I’ve had several lifetimes to enjoy all manner of depraved sexual acts, long before you were even born,” said the younger one. “If this makes you happy, then I swear, Emma, I’m happy.” His hand settled heavily on her waist, and even that simple touch made her clench her thighs together with want. She wondered if it also helped him, gave him something else to focus on other than being separated from her, but she didn’t want to ask. 

“Is this something you’ve thought about before?” he asked. “After all, this isn’t the first time you’ve been in the same room with two of us.”

Emma started to shake her head, and then she tilted it to the side in a grimace. “I mean, sort of? I imagined it later, thinking back on that little adventure. But you and I weren’t together then. I was overwhelmed enough being with one of you.” That made both of them smirk, and she grinned at their identical expressions. “Look, before we go any further, I just…” She flushed and reached up to comb her hair behind her ears. “I’m probably not up for any acrobatic porn star maneuvers, okay? I’m sure double penetration is fun in theory, but—”

“You lead us,” the older Killian said, turning her face toward his, “and we’ll follow. Just being here with you is everything I need.” And then he kissed her, his mouth open and hot, tongue questing. Emma’s knees turned to jelly as she felt another chest pressed against her back, another hand shifting her hair to one side, another mouth against the sensitive skin behind her ear. She wrapped one arm around the neck of the Killian in front of her, bringing the other down to clutch at the thigh of the one behind her. She was completely caged in, overwhelmed with sensation and need.

It quickly became clear that the older Killian, separated from her for so many years, was barely clinging to control, his kisses needy and sharp, contrasted with the slow, measured attention of the man she’d already made love to once tonight. And then before that, two days ago. It was like the difference between a starving man and a well-nourished one, and it was keeping Emma off-kilter.

They undressed her, guiding her to lie between them on the thin mattress once everyone was bare. The bed wasn’t quite wide enough for all three of them, but Emma didn’t care, overcome by all of the skin pressed against her own. The younger Killian was on her left, his hook tracing a path up and down her flank, while the older one was on her right, his hand threaded into her hair as he planted kisses on her neck. Emma turned slightly toward him, gravitating toward his need, and buried her fingers in his chest hair. This close to him, she could make out a few gray hairs on his chest and another few in his beard. That subtle reminder of what he’d endured made her heart ache, and she clutched at him, bringing her lips to his. 

She felt the Killian behind her sit up, and she turned to glance at him. “You okay?”

“Aye, just couldn’t use my hand in that position,” he said with a gentle smile. “Relax, love. We’re fine.”

He began to massage her back with the deep, strong strokes of a man who depended on his one hand to do everything, and Emma groaned with enjoyment as she returned to kissing the other Killian, whose hand was reaching down, coaxing her to open her thighs so that he could touch her. His fingers slid between her folds, and she gasped into his mouth at the sparks of pleasure from his tentative touches. It had barely been an hour since she’d come with the other man’s cock inside her, and Emma was surprised at how ready for more she was. She took a second to mentally congratulate herself for putting aside her anxiety and exhaustion for the moment so that she could experience this.

Killian continued to massage her back, his fingers pressing and kneading along her spine. He hummed in a thoughtful way that made her look up at him again.

“Sorry,” he said, “I was just noticing how good we look together, love,” he said, nodding toward his time-traveling counterpart. “We should have more mirrors in the bedroom.”

Emma giggled, and then trailed off into a moan as the older Killian’s fingers slid inside her. “Only if I can block... any kind of mirror magic,” she gasped. “Don’t wanna find out we’re… oh god… getting spied on by some pervy warlock or something.”

Killian chuckled, lying down behind her again. He slid his hook down the curve of her ass and between her legs, keeping the point of it turned away from her skin. The other Killian adjusted his fingers, focusing on her clit with alternating light touches and deeper, kneading strokes. Emma was delighted to discover that she could rock forward against his hand, and then back against the curve of the hook. The smooth metal parted her wet flesh, and she rode it with a slight swivel of her hips each time she shifted backward. 

“Is that good, darling?” the older one asked her as he kissed her neck. 

“So good.” She felt the wet brush of the tip of his erection against her stomach, and she glanced down at his swollen cock. He was so hard, but he seemed content to focus on her pleasure. Emma reached down to take him in hand, and she felt him twitch in her fist.

“Ahh, love, don’t… I’m on the edge.”

“He hasn’t enjoyed the pleasures of your body recently, as I have,” the other one murmured in her ear. “Be gentle with him.”

Emma shifted her hand to the jut of his hipbone, continuing to move her pelvis in time with his fingers. She could feel the wiry chest hair of the younger Killian against her back as he just held her, letting her use him to get off. Unable to keep quiet with what they were doing to her, Emma cried out as her pleasure ramped up and up. Her skin broke out in beads of sweat and she gasped, her lips dragging over the stubble on the older man’s face.

“That’s it, love,” one of them said, and she wasn’t sure which one, couldn’t focus on that when she was so close to coming, pleasure throbbing so deep it almost hurt. She peaked with a stifled whimper, eyes shut tight and every muscle tensing as the ecstasy rolled over and over her in pulsing electric waves. They held her as her breathing slowed, cradling her between them, these two versions of her husband.

Emma kissed the older Killian when she finally got control of herself. “You need to come,” she whispered.

His resulting chuckle sounded a tiny bit hysterical. “Not going to be an issue.”

She heaved herself up, pushing him back and throwing a leg over his hips. “Come inside me, sweetheart.” She reached down and adjusted the angle of his cock and slid down, letting him fill her.

“Fucking bloody fuck,” he moaned, his hips jerking up in sharp thrusts as he lost himself to the sensation of being buried inside her. 

“Oh, Emma,” the other Killian said, lying beside them. He was lazily stroking his own cock. “You look so glorious when you fuck me.”

Feeling a little self-conscious with both of them watching her, she closed her own eyes and concentrated on moving in a steady rhythm. She was aware of the sway of her breasts, heavier than they used to be already due to the pregnancy. Rising and falling as Killian clutched her hips with his hands, one soft skin and one plastic and metal, Emma focused on what she could hear: the wet sound of their fucking and the skin-on-skin of the other Killian stroking himself and the twin gasps of the two men in the bed.

“I’m… Gods, I going to…” the older Killian stuttered before groaning loudly, his hips rising off the bed a few more times before he collapsed, spent.

Emma bit her lip, smiling down at him. “That was easy,” she said, feeling him softening inside her. 

Killian flushed. “There’s only so far that my hand and my memories of you would go. It doesn’t hold a candle to the real thing.”

She caught her other husband’s grimace out of the corner of her eye and turned to him. It was obviously hitting him again that this was what he had to look forward to: cold nights with only his own hand to bring him pleasure. He saw her watching him and gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, love, I spent many a year on my ship with no physical comfort but that I could offer myself. It’ll be fine.”

Emma reached over and stroked his cheek before lowering herself down between the two men. Both of them shifted, curling around her with soft caresses and kisses. The younger Killian got up and fetched a handkerchief to clean her up before settling down and pulling a blanket up over them.

“Now,” he continued. “You need to get some sleep, my love.”

There wasn’t quite enough space for Emma to roll over, so she shifted onto her back so that she could look at the Killian she’d be leaving behind tomorrow. She let her eyes roam up and down his body. “But you’re still hard,” she said bluntly. She felt the press of the older Killian’s lips against her spine, and his hand at the dip of her waist.

“It was very arousing, watching you like that. But you’ve satisfied me once already. You must be exhausted.”

She was, but her heart was racing, her body still tingling with arousal. She’d come twice tonight, but she couldn’t help wonder if she had another one in her, given how devastatingly sexy she was finding this whole scenario.

“Not half as arousing as being sandwiched between you, believe me.” But then her jaw cracked with a wide yawn, one part of her body betraying another.

Killian stroked her head, fingers running over her hair again and again, and Emma felt her eyelids getting heavy.

“Sleep, my love.”

~*~

When Emma awoke it was still dark, although the noise from the street had finally quieted. She was warm, cuddled between the two Killians, and could only guess that a couple of hours had gone by. Disoriented, she wasn’t sure for a second which Killian was which, and she fumbled around for the hook. She instead found the bare stump of her husband’s wrist, and lifting her head, she saw that he’d discarded his brace before falling asleep. Looking behind her, the other Killian still wore his prosthetic hand, and he stirred as if awoken by her scrutiny. 

“You all right, Emma?”

“Yeah, I just… need to pee.”

“There’s a privy at the end of the hall, I believe. I can escort you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” she said, extracting herself from between the two men and levering herself off the end of the bed. Looking around, she plucked the younger Killian’s shirt from the floor and pulled it on, buttoning it over her bare breasts. 

“I don’t know anything about the clientele of this place. I’d be more comfortable walking with you.” 

Emma quickly pulled her pants on. “Fine, just hurry.”

They accomplished the task with no difficulty, although as she hurried back to their rented room, Emma said a brief prayer of thanks to whoever might be listening that she lived in a realm with modern plumbing. 

Stripping their clothes off again, they got back into bed, and Emma pressed her cold skin against the other Killian, who snuffled awake at the sudden change in temperature.

“Wha—?”

“Sorry, I had to go to the bathroom and now I’m freezing,” she said, burrowing her nose into his warm chest.

He hummed, tangling their legs together. “Let’s warm you up then.” He kissed the top of her head.

Emma shifted, letting her backside rub against the man behind her as she reached down and caressed the younger Killian’s thigh. “I don’t know if you meant that as innuendo, but I’m gonna take it that way.”

Both of them chuckled. “You’re insatiable,” the younger one said.

She wanted to banter with them about it, about how insanely sexy she found being with both of them at the same time, but she was afraid it would seem like she was making light of Killian’s terrible sacrifice to protect Henry and their unborn baby. Emma certainly didn’t want to imply that this night of sexual adventure was worth what he went through to get here.

Instead, she tilted her head and kissed the Killian in front of her on the cheek, and then craned around and did the same with the one at her back. “I love you. Thank you for this.”

“Anything for you, Emma,” they both said almost at the same time, which made her laugh. 

She couldn’t decide where to touch or kiss first, as she alternated between the two of them with her lips and tongue and hands. After a few minutes, she found herself following a trail down the chest and stomach of the older Killian, her mouth gravitating toward where he was hard and ready for her again. Getting up on her hands and knees, she positioned herself to take him in her mouth. 

She heard a brief, quiet exchange between the two Killians, and then the younger one was up and moving, positioning himself behind her, his hand stroking her flank as she teased her lips over the tip of the supine Killian’s cock, making him gasp and strain toward her for more. She could taste herself on him from their earlier activities. Then she felt the other man’s fingers on her, and she groaned.

Glancing back, she saw heat in her husband’s eyes as he caressed her. “Is this all right?” he asked. 

Emma nodded, unsure if she could speak, a fresh flood of arousal ricocheting through her. 

“I want to watch,” the older Killian said. “I want to see what your face looks like while I’m fucking you from behind.”

Shuddering, Emma nodded again. They’d definitely have to get some more mirrors at home.

The Killian behind her continued to touch her, spreading her open and sliding two fingers inside, not that she needed any preparation. Turning back to the Killian underneath her, she ran her tongue up the vein on the underside of his cock, enjoying his moan and the way his legs tensed. Taking it part of the way into her mouth, she hollowed her cheeks and sucked, whimpering as the hand on her sex grew bolder. Emma took a moment to hope she looked sexy from back there and not ridiculous, her ass in the air and her swollen sex on display like some kind of animal in heat. Then she felt Killian’s erection rub against her as he positioned himself, and she figured that for him, it must be sexy.

When he slid inside her she had to gasp, her mouth going slack around the other Killian’s cock as she reacted to the sensation of him filling her in one long stroke, giving her that deep-down pleasure that she loved, that perfect fit of him slotted inside her. Then he started to fuck her and Emma returned her attentions to the other man, the pleasure making her almost frenzied in her desire to make him come in her mouth. To make both of them come. Her walls clenched and bore down and she whimpered again. It was so good. She’d never felt so alight with so much desire. It was almost more than she could handle, more than her brain could process at once.

“Fuck, you feel so good, Emma,” the Killian behind her said, his voice strained. She felt his hand on one hip and his stump on the other as he snapped his hips, and she scrabbled at the bed to keep herself from being shoved forward. The older Killian’s hand settled on the back of her head as she continued to suck; not exerting any pressure, just softly stroking her hair. Trying to take him a little deeper, Emma felt a twinge in her throat and backed off quickly. She’d forgotten for a moment that pregnancy had made her gag reflex more sensitive, and she shifted her weight so that she could grip the base of his cock with her hand and not make that mistake again. 

Listening to the desperate sounds he was making, she worked him a few more times with hand and mouth. She could feel the way he was restraining himself from thrusting up, and that familiar way he got even harder right before he came, and she tried to keep going for his sake, but now that she’d thought about gagging, it was hard to keep herself from doing it. Frustrated, she pulled off, stroking him in a tight fist, the saliva providing some lubrication.

“Sorry,” she gasped. “I don’t think I can—”

“Gods, just keep doing that,” the older Killian muttered, still watching the way the other man was fucking into her from behind. “Do you like that? Does my cock feel good inside you?”

Emma moaned, nodding her head, continuing to pump him with her fist. She felt split open, and so full, and her clit seemed to pulse in desperation for just that little bit more sensation it would take to push her over. She needed to touch herself, needed it like she’d never needed anything, but she couldn’t with one hand keeping her upright and the other fisted around the other Killian’s cock.

She had just enough warning before he came to angle him away from her hair, and when he ejaculated only a little bit ended up on her chin, the rest landing on his abdomen. Killian groaned loudly, his hips thrusting against her fist, his head thrown back on the pillow. Emma watched his Adam’s apple work, mesmerized by the sight of him lost in pleasure.

As soon as she could, she let go and darted her hand down to her own clit, almost crying with relief as her fingers brushed it. She pressed and adjusted her hand until she had just the pressure she needed, and that coupled with the deep thrusts of the cock inside her made her tremble, her orgasm almost within reach. The sounds from her throat were like nothing she’d ever heard herself utter before, and maybe she was waking up everyone at the inn, maybe Regina would glare at her or high-five her in the morning, she didn’t fucking care, she just wanted to feel like this forever. 

It felt like she came for literal minutes, clenching and pulsing and it was fucking fantastic, and dimly she was aware of the fact that the Killian behind her had shifted to shorter, quicker strokes and then he was coming too, his agonized groan like music to her ears.

She couldn’t even move when he pulled out, she was so blissed out and exhausted. Her body was covered in sweat and she was pretty sure she hadn’t managed to keep the fluids out of her hair after all, and she could feel more leaking down her thigh, and this realm didn’t have showers, and she didn’t even care. Emma just laughed as she let her husbands guide her to lie back down, her muscles protesting any movement. 

“You’re the sexiest creature in all the realms, Swan,” one of them said. She didn’t know which one, and it didn’t matter.

“A siren. A goddess,” the other agreed. 

“I love you,” Emma murmured, and fell asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

They gathered after breakfast in the clearing near Henry’s cottage.

Killian stood beside Regina, the brace for his hook propped on the pommel of his sword, watching from a distance as Henry and Emma said their goodbyes. He could tell that Emma was trying to put on a brave face, but the tears were starting to flow as she pulled her son into a hug. His older counterpart was keeping his distance from everyone, allowing time for all the farewells.

“You gonna be okay there, pirate?” Regina asked him.

He met her eyes briefly. “I was imagining what I would do if staying here to protect Henry meant that I would miss the birth of my child. That I really would miss all that time with Emma. And… if I knew that that was the only way to keep both Henry and my unborn child safe from whatever is coming…” He sighed. “I’d stay.”

She reached over and tentatively squeezed his hand. “Thank you.” Regina then let go and stepped back, her discomfort with even that brief moment of connection evident. “But that isn’t what you’re doing. You aren’t going to miss the birth of your child.” 

“Then why do I hate this so much?” he asked, his jaw aching as he clenched it.

“Because living day to day without the person you love feels like torture sometimes,” Regina said. “There’s an ending in sight for you, though. Focus on that.”

Emma and Henry walked over and joined them, and Emma pulled a surprised Regina into a hug. “I’m pissed that you won’t be there when the baby comes,” she said.

Regina laughed, her voice the slightest bit watery. “I’m sure you’ll have plenty of people willing to babysit.”

Emma scoffed as she let go of Regina. “Not to babysit, just… I don’t know. I figured you’d keep me sane when the baby is crying nonstop and my mother is being annoyingly optimistic about everything.”

Killian’s attention drifted from the two women to Henry, who had wandered over to the older Killian to say goodbye to him. It was such an odd thing, he thought. First, he had to endure a period of time without his wife, and then after that a period of time without his stepson. From the younger Killian’s perspective, at the start of this slow path through time, it felt like an eternity until they would all be reunited again. His older self might have kept mum on how long it would be, but Killian knew. The subtle signs of age on the other man’s body, the desperate way he had touched his wife, the sadness in his eyes as he said goodbye to Henry now. It would be years, not months.

“Hey,” Emma said, taking his hand.

Killian swallowed around a lump in his throat. “Hey, yourself.”

She put her arms around him. “Take good care of Henry.”

He chuckled. “He’ll probably need to take care of me. I’ll be useless without you.”

“No, you won’t.” She pulled him tighter, and he could feel the rounded bump of her abdomen, a little bit more pronounced every day. 

“Look after yourself, love. Eat balanced meals, and take your vitamin—”

“Killian, don’t imagine it like my life is going on without you.” She pulled back and held his face in her hands. “Imagine that I’m frozen in a bubble. Nothing’s gonna happen without you there. I’ll eat healthy and take my prenatal vitamin because you’ll be there to remind me. Okay?”

“Okay.” He blinked, feeling tears spill over onto his cheeks, and kissed her. “Not a day will go by for me that I won’t think of you.”

Her resulting smile broke his heart. “Good.” She kissed him again. “I love you _so much_.”

“I love you, too.” He squeezed her hand, not wanting to let go, and brought it to his lips. “Always.”

She pulled away, and he finally had to drop her hand. Killian was barely holding himself together, knowing that breaking down into sobs right in front of everyone would just make all of this harder. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the magic bean, reluctantly handing it over to his other self. “Appreciate every single day,” he told himself.

“You know I will.”

Emma went over to Henry one last time, taking his face in her hands and kissing his forehead, just the way she’d done when he was little, when she had to lean over him to do so. Now he stood almost a head taller than her, his shoulders broad. When she seemed like she might linger indefinitely, the older Killian gently guided her away.

As Killian watched, his counterpart hurled the bean, and a portal opened in the clearing. Squinting, Killian could see the black pavement of Storybrooke’s main street in the middle of the glowing spiral hole, the clock tower in the background. He felt a swell of homesickness, not just for Emma, but for Granny and Snow, David and little Neal, Ashley and Alexandra and even Zelena, gods help him — all of the people who made his adopted hometown a home. 

Emma looked back, her eyes filled with tears. The other Killian put his arm around her, and before he could take another breath, the two of them turned and ran through the portal. It closed behind them, the woods left unnaturally silent in its wake.

That night, as he fell asleep listening to the sounds of the nocturnal creatures of the forest, Killian mentally marked a single line on a tally sheet inside his mind. One day down without his wife; many, many more left to go.

~*~

_Storybrooke, Years Ago_

At least his time in Hyperion Heights meant he didn’t have to readjust to modern life. The way to brew a pot of coffee, or run the dishwasher, or drive a car — thanks to his cursed memories, all of those tasks were at his fingertips, so to speak. And thanks to his false memories of attending the Seattle Police Academy and studying to be a detective, he was now positively overqualified to be Sheriff’s deputy in a quiet Maine town where nothing remarkable ever happened.

The day they returned to Storybrooke, he took his prosthetic hand off and put it in a drawer. It reminded him too much of those lonely months as Detective Rogers, when he didn’t even know he had a wife to miss. When he didn’t know that Henry and Ella and Lucy and Regina were his family. If Emma had any opinion about him going back to the hook, she didn’t comment on it.

He could tell when Emma would start to talk to him about something like it had happened yesterday (because of course for her, it had), then would stop and check herself and gently back up and explain. He hated that she had to do that, that she had to be reminded of all the years he’d lived without her. He wanted her happiness to be pure, not adulterated with the knowledge of the time he’d spent away from her side.

On the plus side, the waning of Emma’s morning sickness as she started the second trimester of her pregnancy combined with his having missed her so desperately meant their sex life was electric — probably the best it had ever been, even compared to those first few months after their wedding. As they lay in bed in the soft afterglow, his hand on her growing belly, he would talk to her. He told of how the first time he saw the way Henry looked at Ella, Killian knew he was a goner. How he and Regina had witnessed their small wedding in the resistance camp in the forest. How Ella had gone into labor at the most inopportune of times, and that he had helped Tiana deliver the baby while Regina held off the forces of darkness with every spell in her arsenal. 

He told her about Rogers, and how lonely he’d been, even if he hadn’t known why.

Emma combed her fingers through his hair and pressed her lips to his cheek and listened. In less time than he would have credited, it was like he’d never been away from her in the first place.

He marked the days, knowing that a time would come when he would need to let himself into the pawn shop for a particular magic wand and write out instructions and take them to Zelena so that the time loop would finally be closed.

~*~

Emma shut off the shower and slid the curtain back, pausing to squeeze the excess water out of her hair before stepping out.

“Swan?” Killian called, and she could hear his footsteps through the bedroom. “Do you need a hand?”

She rolled her eyes. “I can manage to get out of the shower without falling down, babe, I promise.”

He ignored her snark, walking over and holding out his elbow. “Nonetheless, I’m here, so you might as well hold onto me.”

She glared at him, but put her wet hand on his shirt sleeve and allowed him to take some of her weight as she maneuvered over the lip of the tub with her prodigious belly. Killian handed her a fresh, fluffy towel. 

“Thanks,” she said, starting to dry herself off.

“Did the shower make you feel better?”

“My back is still killing me, so not really.” She grimaced down at her protruding belly button, now an outie, and observed once again that she couldn’t see her feet. “I’m ready for you to come out of there, little girl,” she said, patting her abdomen. As if she knew she were being spoken to, the baby kicked.

“Two more weeks, love.”

“Two more weeks ‘til the due date, but that means any time from now on would be considered full term,” she said as she toweled off her hair and followed him back into the bedroom.

“I’m sorry you’re uncomfortable,” he said. “What can I do to help?”

She sighed. “Can you rub my back?”

“Of course.”

Emma hung her towel up and pulled on a pair of clean underwear and lay down on the bed on her side, bringing her knees up so that her spine curved out. “I can’t even lie down on my stomach for a proper backrub.” Complaining felt good. “And my hips hurt, which is just stupid.”

Killian lay down behind her, his hand kneading into her lower back, and she moaned in appreciation. “Right there?” he asked her somewhat unnecessarily.

“God, yes, right there,” she gasped as his fingers dug in deeper.

He stifled a groan. “How it is that you can make me hard so quickly just with the sound of your voice? It’s witchcraft, Swan.”

She turned and looked over her shoulder to see this erection he was bragging about, and sure enough, she could see the hard outline of him through his jeans. Emma snorted and turned back around. “But then you look at me and it kills your boner just as quickly.”

“I can only assume, since I have told you a hundred times that I am aroused by the sight of your pregnant body, that you are fishing for reassurance. But that’s all right, darling, I’m happy to provide it.” His hand continued to work on her back as he talked. “You are beautiful and sexy, and when I look at you, I’m in awe of the fact that you’re carrying my child and at the same time I just want to fuck you.”

Emma shivered, smiling secretly to herself. “Okay.”

“I’m glad it’s okay with you that you drive me to distraction on a daily basis.”

“And here I thought you were afraid I was going to fall down in the tub; you just wanted an excuse to see me naked.”

He chuckled. “It can’t be both?”

Emma hummed to herself, dragging a thumb over her nipple. “We can have sex now if you want.”

Leaving off the deep tissue massage, Killian began trailing his fingers up and down her spine, making her shiver again. “What about your back and your hips and whatever else is paining you, darling?”

She shrugged. “My back is better, thanks to you, and now I’m kind of horny. Look, don’t question my rapidly shifting hormonal state. There’s no explaining it.”

Laughing, he curled his body against hers and reached around to stroke her over the thin cotton of her panties. She often felt a little swollen and sensitive down there these days, and his touch had her instantly gasping and grinding against his fingers. 

It was clear that Killian wanted to take his time, as he gently rolled her over onto her back to spend some quality time kissing her. Which was nice, but what Emma really wanted right now was a quick fuck, not to be romanced. On the other hand, her husband was a wonderful kisser. Not only that, she could tell by the way he was stroking his hand up and down her body that he was trying to communicate to her through touch that he still appreciated her physically. The least she could do was lie back and enjoy it.

Killian pulled down her underwear and Emma helped him, kicking it off onto the floor. Before he could resume his attentions, the baby kicked hard enough to hurt, and Emma winced. Maybe lying back and enjoying it wasn’t in the cards for her either.

“I think she wants me to turn over,” Emma said, rolling away onto her side again.

She listened as her husband undressed, and then she felt him press against her back again. This time he was all skin and hair and hard cock, falling naturally against the crease of her ass as he nuzzled her neck.

Emma tangled their legs together, none too subtly spreading her thighs and angling her hips to accept him inside. Killian made some adjustments and used his hand to guide himself into her wetness, and she groaned with relief as he filled her.

It was a familiar rhythm for them, an all-too-familiar position, and Emma found herself longing for the day when she could feel Killian pressed against her chest again, could wrap her legs around his hips and lie back and let him fuck her into the mattress. She slid her hand down between her legs and clenched her thighs, her fingers kneading and pressing against her clit. Emma didn’t need his help with this part of it; in truth, preferred to take care of herself when Killian was fucking into her from behind, but he wrapped his arm around her and put his hand over hers and it was nice, like he just wanted to feel the way she pleasured herself, like it heightened his enjoyment to do so.

Emma tilted her head back and lost herself in the friction, the delicious pressure, and then her orgasm hit suddenly, making her moan low and loud in the quiet bedroom. After a handful of strokes, Killian followed, his teeth leaving impressions in the skin of her shoulder. 

The lay together for several minutes, panting, breathing gradually slowing down and in no hurry to pull apart. When he finally slipped from her body and rolled to lie on his back, Emma turned over to cuddle against his side — as close as she could, anyway, given her current shape.

He put his hand on her belly and was soon rewarded with a flurry of motion from their daughter. Killian laughed. “There she is, right on schedule. Very indignant about the things we’ve been getting up to, isn’t she?”

Emma giggled and closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of his hand on her skin. “Should we tell her when she’s older? That we used to have sex when I was heavily pregnant and that she would always kick me afterward like she was taking a karate class?”

“Oh, aye. I’m sure we’ll scar her in a myriad of ways, Swan; what’s one more?”

~*~

“Killian?”

“Up here, David!” he called, holding the front part of the diaper down with the stump of his left wrist so that he could fold the tabs over with his hand. After two weeks, he almost had it mastered. Fastening the snaps of the little garment Emma called a ‘onesie’ with nimble fingers, he scooped up the crying, wiggling infant, putting his hand under her head and his wrist under her back. “Now now, Maureen, don’t fret. I’ve got you, sweet love.”

Turning, he looked at the disarray of the baby’s room and frowned. Not exactly the kind of thing that would impress his father-in-law. Maureen snuffled, rooting against his collarbone.

David ducked his head in and grinned. “There’s my granddaughter!” he said. He made a few silly faces at the baby before holding out his arms. “May I?”

“Of course,” Killian said, passing the baby over. “Did Emma tell you to check on me?”

David gave him a guilty glance as he led Killian out of the nursery. “She might’ve mentioned that she was going to run a few errands on her own this afternoon.” He bounced the baby in the practiced way of a man who had spent many an hour with his own, and Killian envied him his natural ease. “How are you?”

“Fine. Maureen was a little fussy earlier, but that miraculous pump Emma has allows me to feed her, so—”

“Yeah, there’s a lot of things in this realm that make taking care of baby easier,” David said as the two men went downstairs. “Not that I had the opportunity to take care of Emma, but… you know.”

“Aye. Can I get you anything?”

Little Maureen’s eyelids were drooping, seduced into sleep by the way David was gently swaying back and forth. “No, I’m fine. Just wanted to see this little one and check how you were doing.”

Killian scratched behind his ear. “I mean, I’m not as good as Emma at… anything, really. But it’s…” He looked at the way his daughter’s eyelashes fluttered, at her tiny, perfect nose and pink cheeks. “She makes it all worth it. I would endure every hardship ten times over for her.”

David brushed his lips across the top of the baby’s head. “Yeah. I know exactly what you mean.” 

Killian decided to take advantage of not holding a baby for once and moved to start cleaning up the kitchen.

“So…” David said, still swaying back and forth. “I noticed you’re not wearing the hook.”

“Aye,” he said, filling the sink with hot soapy water. “Even though I don’t keep it sharpened, I was still worried I might hurt her.”

“Well, don’t you have a prosthetic hand? Emma told me you had one from when you were cursed in Seattle.”

Killian frowned, turning around. “She did?”

Another guilty expression from his father-in-law. “She might’ve mentioned it.”

Turning back to the sink, Killian concentrated on his task. “It belonged to my cursed persona there. I don’t… I don’t like the reminder.”

“Of being cursed? I can understand that.”

He winced. “I don’t mean a reminder for me. I mean for Emma.”

There was a pause. “Sorry, Killian, you lost me. Reminder for Emma of what, exactly?”

He dried off his hand, giving up on the dishes and leaning against the sink. “Of the fact that I’m so far removed in time from the man I was when she told me she was pregnant with that little life ruiner,” he said with a forced smile and a nod at his daughter, now slack and sound asleep in her grandfather’s arms. “I’ve been back for more than six months, and I think she’s almost forgotten.” He grimaced and shook his head. “Not _forgotten_ , but she doesn’t think about it every day. She’s stopped constantly checking herself on whether she’s assuming I’ll remember something I might not remember anymore. I don’t want there to be a constant reminder for Emma of the fact that I had to live a segment of my remaining years without her, after how hard we fought to be together.”

“I’m not sure you’re giving my daughter enough credit. I mean, look, you should do what makes you comfortable. Wear a—” He glanced around the kitchen. “—spatula at the end of your wrist for all I care. But I just think if you have a device that would make it easier to take care of a newborn — not that you aren’t doing an amazing job already; clearly you are — why not use it?”

“Did Emma tell you to say that?”

“No.” David smirked. “Let’s just say I read between the lines.” The baby startled herself awake and wiggled in David’s arms. Shifting her position into the crook of his elbow, he looked down into her face and grinned widely. “I still think she kind of looks like me,” he said as he booped her gently on the nose.

Killian groaned. “Not this again.”

“Come on, she has my eyes!”

“ _I_ have blue eyes, mate.”

“Yeah, whatever, pirate.”

~*~

_Storybrooke, Present Day_

“They’re here! They’re here!” Maureen shouted from the front room, nearly knocking over her father’s telescope in her haste to get to the front door. “Mom! Dad! They’re here!”

She wrestled open the door a little bit too forcefully, and it banged against the doorstop as she ran onto the porch. 

People were piling out of the nondescript dark blue car at the curb as Zelena’s green monster pulled up behind and she and Robyn got out. Maureen was almost distracted from the new arrivals by Robyn’s blue hair. She _loved_ Robyn’s hair. She wanted blue hair too, but her parents said she wasn’t old enough yet.

Maureen hadn’t met any of the other people, but she knew who they were. Aunt Regina, she’d seen pictures of. Henry too, although most of the pictures of him were when he was a teenager, and he looked like a grownup now. The other lady must be his wife, she thought, and the girl was their daughter, Lucy. Maureen’s dad had told her lots of stories about Lucy. 

There was a blur of blonde hair as her mom ran out of the house and down the stairs and collided with Henry, hugging him tight. Then she felt her dad’s hand on her shoulder, and Maureen looked up to see him watching the reunion. He looked kind of like he was going to cry, which made Maureen’s stomach roll over. 

Regina approached and held out her hand. “Hello, there. I’m Regina.”

Maureen shook Regina’s hand. “I’m Maureen.” Regina was pretty, with dark lipstick and dark hair, and Maureen felt nervous about what to say to her. She looked up at her dad again.

He smirked at Regina. “Do we hug?” he asked her.

“Absolutely not,” Regina replied, but then she hugged Maureen’s dad anyway, which was weird.

Maureen looked back at the lawn, where her mom was talking excitedly to Henry’s wife, her voice kind of high-pitched and fast. Lucy glanced over, and Maureen waved nervously at her.

With a smile, Lucy approached. “You’re my aunt, right?”

Maureen puffed up a little bit at that. She was someone’s aunt, and that meant she had _responsibilities_. “Yeah,” she said in a firm voice. “I can show you around if you want. Do you want to come see my room?”

“I delivered the package and the hook, exactly as instructed,” Zelena said. Maureen looked up out of curiosity. Zelena had delivered Dad's hook to someone? Why would she do that, Maureen wondered. For as long as she could remember, sometimes her dad had worn his hook and sometimes his mechanical hand, depending on what he needed to do. She’d asked him once why, and he had said that it took two hands to wash all the dirt off of her at the end of the day, but one hook to properly captain the _Jolly Roger_. She knew that last part wasn’t technically true, but after that one time a boy in her class had made fun of her dad for only having one hand, after she’d punched him and made his nose bleed, she’d decided that she didn’t really care why he wore the hook. It was pretty and she loved it.

~*~

Emma poured herself another glass of wine, smiling at the controlled chaos coming from the living room where everyone had gathered after dinner, her whole family under one roof, with kids and grandkids and _great_ grandkids, even.

Zelena and Regina joined her in the kitchen, and she filled their empty wine glasses before they asked. 

“So let me see if I’ve got this straight,” Zelena said. “You two and Hook traveled by portal to Ella’s realm by magic bean — let’s call that Point A — Hook and Regina stayed there for several years, got cursed to live in Seattle, the curse was broken with true love’s kiss, I brought the Black Fairy’s wand to them there — let’s call that Point B — Hook traveled back in time to Point A, took you back to here to Storybrooke, you had Maureen and lived happily until a few weeks ago when Hook sent me to Point B to bring him the wand. Have I got all that?”

Emma sipped her wine. “That pretty much sums it up.”

“And so for a little while there were two versions of Hook in the same place,” Zelena went on.

“For about twelve hours or so.” Emma narrowed her eyes at Zelena. “I know what you want to ask me.”

“No, you don’t, because I am going to be a bigger person than that. I don’t always have to be the comic relief, asking inappropriate questions. I’m capable of some measure of decorum, you know. I’m capable—”

“I did have sex with both of them at the same time,” Emma said.

“There isn’t enough wine in the _world_ for this conversation,” Regina said, taking a large drink from her glass as if she were testing that theory.

Zelena put her own wine glass down and gripped Emma’s upper arms, looking her dead in the eye. “Emma, I’ve never respected you more than I do at this moment,” Zelena said reverently. “This is the true fairy tale.”

“Yeah, well, let’s keep this one out of any storybooks, okay?” Emma replied with a giggle.

~*~

“Finally, Captain Hook is starting to look his age,” Henry said as he came out onto the back porch to join Killian. Dinner had been demolished hours ago, and the two excited girls were finally in bed asleep, and Killian had taken the opportunity to sneak outside for a breath of fresh air.

“What’s that?” 

Henry pointed at his hair, where Killian knew there was a liberal smattering of grey amongst the brown. 

“It’s weird. It’s been two weeks since I’ve seen you, but for you, it’s been years,” his stepson said, leaning against the porch railing. “I mean, we knew this day would come, but it’s one thing to know and another to _know_.”

“Aye.”

“I can tell you’re happy, though. You seem settled — in a good way.”

“I’m very happy.” He scratched behind his ear. “Your mother and I missed you terribly, but it’s been a wonderful adventure, raising Maureen.”

“She’s very… spirited,” Henry said diplomatically, and Killian laughed.

“You can say it — she’s a handful.”

“Okay, she’s a handful, but she wouldn’t be my sister if she weren’t.” 

“Aye, I suppose that’s true.” They stood side-by-side in silence for a few minutes, staring out at the darkened sky. “How long do you think you’ll stay here in Storybrooke?”

Henry shrugged. “For a while. There’s certainly nothing for us back on the west coast, and I don’t think any of us are in any hurry to get back to Ella’s realm.”

“That’s good news.” He knew Emma wouldn't want to let him go anytime soon. 

“How do you do it?” Henry asked.

“Do what, my boy?”

Henry exhaled. “Live a normal life. A life without danger, and monsters, and curses. I grew up with all that stuff, and then for a few years, it was all so quiet. And yeah, I left home to visit other realms so that I could find my own story, and obviously, I’m glad I did. But I wonder if I didn’t also do it because I missed all the drama and danger. Maybe I’m addicted to it, a little bit. So now I’ve got a chance at my own happily ever after, my own happy beginning, and I’m terrified I’m going to screw it up because I have no idea how to just live an ordinary life.”

Killian reached over and rested his hand on Henry’s shoulder. “Well, first of all, I don’t think there’s such a thing as an ordinary life. There may not be monsters here anymore, but an interesting life doesn’t hinge on fighting monsters. It’s learning something new every day, or finding fulfillment in your work, or running through the forest pretending to be a wolf because your daughter insists you’re a wolf.”

Henry laughed. “You’re pretty wise, old man.”

“Aye, well, I’ve lived a lot of years. For example, I’ve lived the last ten years twice over, so I had plenty of time to soak up lots of extra wisdom to impart to my stepson.”

“Ugh, you’re going to be insufferable about that, aren’t you?”

Killian grinned. “You can count on it, my boy.”

 

_END_


End file.
